#idk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As of late it seemed that keeping a low profile, in light of recent events, was becoming increasingly difficult. Typically, Phoebe was never one to complain about attention (it was always well-known and never doubted that she eagerly encouraged it)--however, there came a point where enough was simply enough. That point, she thought, had been passed weeks ago.

Having connections to the Red and Blue orbs in Hoenn put her in a tight enough position as it was, but being a member of the Elite only made things so much worse. They might not have been so bad, really, if not for the Champion's frankly remarkable dedication to public stupidity. Wallace had always had a talent for assuming the spotlight wherever he went, but there was a time and place, and a full-scale overhaul of the system to make way for an eco-terrorist dictatorship was not one of those times. His vocal attempts to spark insurrection were doing nothing, save making things more difficult for his League.

A quiet sigh accessorized the small, pouting frown she wore only in private, even now. She sat cross-legged atop the head of a large Drifblim, doing its best to remain discreet during its flight; trips to visit her grandparents in their current hiding place with the Orbs were becoming harder and harder to make, and detection was something she wasn't willing to risk. Someone had to deliver them supplies and food, however, and thus far Phoebe had failed to trust anyone else with knowledge of their location.

The return trips were the hardest. It was simple enough to slip out of her home in Lilycove late at night and be sure she lost any potential following eyes, but returning subtly wasn't much of an option after vanishing without a trace for at least a day's time. The physical act of leaving her grandparents alone on a remote island cave failed to make things any easier. She missed them. She missed their little cottage on Mt. Pyre. She missed things being normal, and safe.